


what comes after the calm

by shortitude



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU starting with 2.05, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Female Friendship, Male-Female Friendship, Politics, Power Couple, What-If, rbficexchange, smart character being smart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-23
Updated: 2015-08-23
Packaged: 2018-04-16 17:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4633641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shortitude/pseuds/shortitude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She takes her first real breath when, after hugging Clarke as tight as she possibly can and trying not to let her fear betray her, she hears Clarke’s name being called. In Finn’s voice. It shouldn’t, but it sinks down to her stomach like a bitter pill, that the first person he calls for is Clarke; if she needed a clearer picture painted for her she just got it. It doesn’t matter, in the big picture; he’s back and he’s safe and that’s all that counts.</p><p>(“You’re on your feet,” is the observation that comes, of all people, from Bellamy. He says it quietly, looks at her like he’s in awe. For reasons she can’t explain to herself, it makes Raven stand up taller. )</p><p>[au from 2x05 onwards]</p>
            </blockquote>





	what comes after the calm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/gifts).



> **Prompt 5:** An alternative s2 in which Finn and Murphy return to camp together with Bellamy and Octavia in 2x05, and so there is no need to send a search party after them. Bellamy gets to spend at least a few days around Raven. Things happen.
> 
>  **WARNING!!!** This fic mostly contains the exploration of this au setting and how it would affect the rest of the events in the season. The focus in this case particularly was put on Raven's relation to Bellamy, Octavia and Clarke, with the premise that Finn was still alive. I think that, regardless of whether there was grieving during which to hold her tenderly and whisper it's not like I care over, Bellamy would still back Raven up. I also think they wouldn't really need many motives to bone each other again. As for Raven's dynamic with the girls, well -- I hope you enjoy reading about it instead of reading my notes.

She waits all night outside of the tent where Abby is tending to Clarke, fretting and thinking about Finn being out there, still looking. If they’d taken long-range radios, she thinks, she could have sent word to them so they’d come back; except radios don’t seem to be working anymore, and Finn, Murphy and Bellamy didn’t exactly leave on a Council-approved rescue mission. 

It aches to think that her friends are still out there and possibly in danger again, and even more, it aches to think that Finn left with her orders to bring their people back. (It hadn’t been just an order and they’d both known it. It had been Raven’s way of giving him permission to move on. It hadn’t been easy to say at all.)

She takes her first real breath when, after hugging Clarke as tight as she possibly can and trying not to let her fear betray her, she hears Clarke’s name being called. In Finn’s voice. It shouldn’t, but it sinks down to her stomach like a bitter pill, that the first person he calls for is Clarke; if she needed a clearer picture painted for her she just got it. It doesn’t matter, in the big picture; he’s back and he’s safe and that’s all that counts.

“You go,” she tells Clarke, meeting her apologetic look with a sheepish shrug. “I’ll catch up.” 

She can tell Clarke still feels guilty for something, but in the few steps it takes her to put more distance between them than there is between her and the newly arrived scouts, all that hesitation fades. Raven can’t begrudge her the relief with which she throws herself at Finn, then Bellamy. She’s welcoming Octavia back with a big hug when Raven has finally caught up. 

“You’re on your feet,” is the observation that comes, of all people, from Bellamy. He says it quietly, looks at her like he’s in awe. For reasons she can’t explain to herself, it makes Raven stand up taller. 

“Couldn’t sit on my ass forever,” she answers, and for a moment she looks just at Bellamy. “It would’ve turned flat.” 

“I’m sure it would’ve been fine,” he says, like he’s saying _that’s cute_ after she just scared him into jumping. They share a private little joke at that, or at least Raven thinks they do because there’s a light behind his eyes that spells amusement. 

“I’m so glad,” Octavia interrupts their moment, throwing her arms around Raven and pulling her into a hug that’s surprising and surprisingly welcomed. “That you’re alive.” 

“Glad you’re alive too,” she murmurs back, and believes it. 

She feels the knot of tension release in her chest, and finally looks at Finn. He’s still looking at Clarke, but catches himself at the last moment and gives her a look that reminds Raven of those times when, as children, she’d teach Finn how to put together bolts and he’d look at her proudly upon achieving success. _Look, Raven, I did the thing_. Only this time the thing he did was move on, and she can’t find it within herself to congratulate him anymore. 

Petty or not, she changes the subject. “Where’s Murphy?”

\---

That night, the remaining members of the Guard manage to hunt game and the few young adults on camp get to watch how grown-ups fail at the lessons they drilled into their heads since youth. Dinner is a disaster, but the mood is a little lighter now. She thinks it has a lot to do with the reunions going around lately; for the survivors of the Ark to watch how the remaining Delinquents greet each other, as if days apart was already too much, means hope. Hope that humanity has some chance at not being complete assholes. 

Honestly, Raven thinks that’s childish of them. 

She has to extract herself from the communal table when Murphy takes a seat, because seeing him around – alive, forgiven, _unscathed_ \-- makes her stomach turn. Not as much as watching Clarke and Finn reconnect, quietly, in their little corner at the table. _This is it_ , she thinks, _now you get to watch him forget you’re alive over and over again_. 

She wanders the camp aimlessly for a while, before deciding that she should get to work on something for the extraction of their people from Mount Weather. It’s hard to work when she’s in the dark about what she needs, but a project will keep her mind busy. 

She finds the Blake siblings eating their burnt mutated deer meat just outside the entrance of her workshop. From afar, they sit close together, more engrossed in each other’s company than in the food. The closer she gets, the more she realizes that there’s still worry on their faces; worry and despair on Octavia’s, consternation on Bellamy’s. 

“What’s with the long faces?” 

She’s often found that bluntness makes people open up faster than fake concern. Something in the tone of her voice draws Octavia’s attention enough that she answers, “It’s Lincoln.” 

\---

She gets Wick to turn off the fence at seven in the morning by promising him front row seats to the show of Raven building herself a new brace. The guns she gets – well, it’s best not to specify how she gets the guns, on the account that it might surely get her arrested. This is theft, after all, but she doubts they’ll float her. Sinclair might protest. She definitely thinks Sinclair would protest. 

“I got you two extra clippings, but maybe don’t waste your bullets again,” she tells them, her voice hushed as she unzips the duffel bag and steps back for them to dig through it. 

“Aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?” Octavia asks, while her brother stashes the extra bullets. 

“So much trouble.” She shrugs. “But hey. I electrocuted him within an inch of his life to get the antidote out of him. Maybe if I help save his ass, we’ll be square.” She doesn’t say: maybe there’s some sort of potent painkiller in his repertoire of _stuff_ , because god does she need it. It’s a hassle not to flinch when she walks; the brace is new, the pain feels old. 

It’s Bellamy who speaks first, “Thanks.” 

Raven looks at him, finally. She hasn’t consciously avoided looking at him this whole morning, but when she makes eye contact now, last night’s events come rushing back to her. The talk with Finn, the retelling of the tale. There’s a board in her workshop covered in Clarke’s painting of Mount Weather’s map as she remembers it. There’s another one with the beginning of plans; bombs, chemical weapons, sabotage, whatever could be thought of at four in the morning with a cup of coffee being shared between the three of them. 

She’s tired, wrung out from having to be in the same room as Clarke and Finn and pretend not to see the looks they gave each other, nervous from the subterfuge from this morning when she got the Blakes their weapons, and the whole night of keeping this plan a secret from the others. Impatience wins over, and she shrugs uneasily, looking away from Bellamy.

“Check the fence, should be down now.” 

It is. 

Octavia passes through the hole first, looking back at Raven with solemn gratitude. There’s an air of savage dignity to Octavia’s stance, and Raven wonders when it was that she changed from brat into warrior. They don’t have a big time frame for this, so she knows she shouldn’t do it. But she does. 

“Bellamy,” she calls out, and steps up to the fence just as he’s ducking through the hole. He pauses, and looks at her. “I know – Finn told me. Thank you.” She knows that if anyone would understand what it means to have this sort of loyalty to family, even when they’re a pain in your ass, it’s probably Bellamy. There’s a reason she’s agreed to help the two of them sneak out to go find Lincoln: she thinks having him back will make Octavia focused, and losing him will give her a dangerous edge, and she knows that Bellamy is at his most capable when he is looking out for his sister. They need this. Like she needed Finn to come back with the group, which is why she says her piece to the one person responsible for stopping him from going off on his own. “For bringing him back.” Twice.

Bellamy looks at her, a flash of surprise across his features, and then nods before ducking out of Camp Jaha completely. 

“Make sure you bring yourselves back, too,” she adds, and turns around to walk back to her post before she can see their reaction.

\---

Lincoln is too busy coming back from being a cannibal with no self-control to tell Raven about Grounder painkillers. She doesn’t hold it against him. 

About at the same time, scouts spot suspicious activity a few hours from Camp Jaha, and a Grounder messenger arrives on horseback. The presence of the horse in camp seems to turn everyone over the age of twenty into complete and utter morons, because the Council agrees to a formal meeting with the Grounder Commander. 

“It’s too well timed,” Raven finally breaks, and the only person there to listen ends up being Bellamy. He’s taken up space in her workshop ever since he came back with his sister and Lincoln, and she hasn’t had the heart to throw him out and claim she’s busy, because he’s a better soundboard for her plans than apparently anyone. 

Don’t even get her started on Wick. He might be a good engineer and all, but goddamn if he isn’t the flashiest son of a bitch. Like he’s trying to impress someone. If ‘someone’ stands for ‘the inside of Raven’s pants’. Too bad for him he’s a few weeks late to being her rebound.

Speaking of Bellamy, he stays quiet and lets her rant, though she can tell he’s mulling something. 

“Abby figures out a way to reverse Reapers to Grounders and suddenly we get a messenger sent over? How did they know?” She whirls around and points at Bellamy, felt tip pen dangerously close to his nose. “Do you think they’ve been watching us? Spying on us, seeing what we’re capable of, waiting until we prove to either be weak or of use? They could’ve probably helped you find Lincoln faster. Fucking – “ She huffs, and drops her arm back at her side. “It’s just too well timed.”

“Nobody says we should trust them blindly, Raven.” 

“ _Come on_. You’ve noticed Kane has like a major Commander Lexa boner, right?” It’s pathetically obvious to whoever is watching. She’s overheard some guards say that whoever the woman is, she must be incredible, and all Raven wants to do is shout at them and enumerate, one by one, the names of the Delinquents lost to the orders of that incredible woman. 

“Cute.” He pulls a face that says _no, it’s not cute_. Nobody needs to think about Marcus Kane’s boner, apparently. 

“ _Whatever_ ,” she shoots back in self-defense, and they get distracted by sharing a smirk. 

He sobers up first, and looks down at his hands. She sets the pen down and points towards the two wires he’s unscrewed loose. “Cut the plastic around them, carefully, and peel it off. Now twist the two together.” 

Electronics aren’t his forte, but he’s good with his hands. Raven thinks he needs projects to distract him too, then help him focus; if he’s going to take up space in her workshop, he might as well learn to contribute. Electronics aren’t his strong point, but he looks pleased to be handling something other than a gun for a change. It’s a pity it won’t last, she muses, and it never will as long as their people remain in Mount Weather. 

Twenty minutes later, Clarke walks into the workshop without knocking, and Raven wonders if there’s just no privacy left in the world anymore, or if there’s a sign above her door that says ‘open to all’. She notes that Finn isn’t trailing behind her like a lovesick puppy, and wonders if he’s finally retrieved his backbone. 

“Peace talks,” Clarke offers as a way of explanation. She looks grim, plopping herself down on the free chair and leaving Raven standing. She spots Bellamy look like he’s about to offer her his seat, and gives him her hardest _don’t you fucking dare_ look; he doesn’t dare. “Your sister’s a genius,” she tells Bellamy, one tired smile slipping out. “Indra knew, about Lincoln being captured. Octavia brought him with us, and – you should’ve seen the Commander. Her heart practically dropped out of her chest.” 

_I wish_ , Raven thinks, with a roll of her eyes. She catches Bellamy looking, and shakes her head. 

“They’re talking about an alliance now. They’ll help us get our friends back, and we help them get their people out of Mount Weather. Mom said – she said we’d figure out a way to reverse all Reapers.” 

“That’s two for one.” She can’t help it, it’s out before she realizes it; she’s become so used to talking Bellamy’s ear off with her bitter rants that she forgets there’s someone else with them. Someone more hopeful, who doesn’t notice the dark look they give each other. Two things the Grounders win out of this alliance, versus what their people stand to gain.

“We need them, Raven,” Clarke tries, placating. “They know the land better than we do, and – and we could work better together, against a common enemy.”

“We have guns. And bombs. They have bows and arrows and swords and poison.”

“Raven,” Clarke interrupts, pressing her hands against her worktable. ( _That’s mine_ , she thinks, from a visceral point. _That’s mine, stop touching what’s mine._ ) Softer, Clarke goes on; she’s made for diplomacy, this one. “They’re using Grounders like cattle, up there. Nobody deserves that – none of our people deserve to be locked up in that mountain any longer than the other.” There’s a sigh, and she can tell there will be no more debate after this. “Either way, the deal’s been made.” 

She knows it’s unfair, but she doesn’t think; she just looks at Bellamy, searches him for some sort of solution, because he’s here and he should _do something_. He pulls his gaze away from her and looks at Clarke. “Why are you here?”

Clarke looks at Raven. “We need you to build something.” 

Of course. She gets to work. 

\---

It takes a missile taking out a whole Grounder village for desperation to sink in. Abby and Kane almost die, and for a while they think Octavia is dead. Commander Lexa loses her right hand man, and eighteen Grounders get burnt to a crisp by a bomb not of Raven’s making. 

When the dust settles, wounds aren’t so much licked as they are wrapped up tight to fight anew. The alliance solidifies, in what it takes the Sky people’s medical crew to save a few lives, and the plan finally gets shared with the rest. 

Predictably, Raven hates it. 

She says as much to Finn and Clarke, who seem to be sinking slowly into the dark together, spoonfed by Lexa’s bullshit about how love is weakness. (They’re morons, too, since they might lose it but they never let go of each other.) 

She says her piece to Abby, to Kane, and if Jaha were around she’d say it o him as well. Nobody listens. Everybody needs her to build something, but nobody listens when she asks. So, angrily, she says her piece to Bellamy. 

She’s been going over the blueprints of Mount Weather with him for the past half hour, in her tent, and she keeps making sure he follows her. He’s grim; almost losing his sister did this, she thinks, just like almost losing his sister made him volunteer to be the inside man. He is quiet, struggling to look sure of this plan, and that’s what she hates the most. 

That, and the thought that this whole plan will blow up in their faces, and he’ll be the first to go. 

“You’re a self-sacrificing asshole,” she finally snaps. 

It doesn’t seem out of the blue to him. He flinches first, then sighs. “I won’t die.” 

“You better not. You _better_ not.”

He glances at her from under his lashes, then ducks down to memorize another level of the base. Whatever good it’ll do. He’s going in blind. There’s a radio – the one she showed him how to fix, ironically – he’s going to be taking with, but if they manage to jam the signal again, he’ll be toast. And she’ll be waiting on the line, all that time, hoping he finds his way to the signal. “I’ll try not to disappoint you.” 

She chokes on her own breath for a moment, and the next second she is tugging him by his shirt and crushing her mouth to his. She tastes uncertainty and fear on his tongue, when he parts his lips and rubs it desperately against hers. 

“I mean it’s not like I _care_ ,” she breathes out, after he’s taken her shirt off. 

“Yeah. I don’t care either,” he murmurs against her collarbone, and bites to silence her. 

\---

He leaves at dawn. Her sleeping bag smells like him for two days straight. 

\---

Two days later, he finally makes contact. She’s sitting, glued to her chair by the sound of his voice and thinks of telling Octavia but can’t get her legs to move. Clarke passes her the radio and runs to spread the news. 

She’s only vaguely aware that Finn’s still in the room with her. Her fingers shake a little, before she presses the button and holds. “Shooter.” 

“Told you.” _I’ll try not to disappoint._

She smiles, a relieved little laugh escaping her. “Good job. Now…let’s get our people back.”


End file.
